


He's dead. Jim.

by Binouchetruc



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bones as a doctor, Canon Compliant, Canon Dialogue, Canonical Character Death, Caring Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Crew as Family, Developing Relationship, During Canon, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Gen, Hurt James T. Kirk, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inner Dialogue, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy Friendship, James T. Kirk is a Good Friend, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Needs a Hug, Leonard "Bones" McCoy is a Good Friend, M/M, Minor James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Missing Scene, POV Canon Character, POV Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Protective Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Sad Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Secret Crush, Star Trek: Into Darkness, Star Trek: Into Darkness Fix-It, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, Worried Leonard "Bones" McCoy, did you expect anything else from a Bones POV?, some parts at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23024539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binouchetruc/pseuds/Binouchetruc
Summary: He’s dead. That’s the thing. It’s Jim. No one can patch nor fill that hole completely. It is Jim, goddammit. Was. Shit.orJim actually thanks Bones, this time.
Relationships: Crew of the Starship Enterprise & James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Crew of the Starship Enterprise & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 102





	He's dead. Jim.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> So this is my first dip in the Star Trek universe, in a way.  
> It's not the first Star Trek fic I've written, but the first I've actually done x)  
> Don't be scared to leave feedback, it would be very much appreciated! :)  
> I hope you'll enjoy! :3  
> (the punctuation in the title is important xD)

Jim is dead.

Jim isn’t alive. Jim’s corpse. Life left Jim’s body. Jim is gone. Jim’s body is inanimate. Jim is no more. Jim is resting in peace. Jim’s eyes lost their lights. Jim passed away. Jim’s flame is extinct. Jim is no longer alive. Jim is deceased. Jim was sent back up here, whatever that is. Jim’s lifeless body. Jim is back with God, if that bastard even exists. Jim entered his eternal sleep. Jim’s life ended.

Whichever way he put it, it didn’t make it any better, less horrible, more bearable. His best friend (...love? whatever he was, he can’t be anymore anyway, he thought bitterly) is dead.

Or, someone with Jim’s face was laying in that body bag. Maybe, if Leonard convinced himself hard enough, he could continue his work in medbay like his blond idiot of captain would drop at any second to drag him out to the mess where they would eat lunch together like everything was fine, and not drop in his chair like life left him too, and wouldn’t it be easier that way? How’s a life without Jim? It didn’t occur to him how much a certain James Tiberius “call me Jim” Kirk took place in his life. No. He was lying. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Doing so would mean it could end, and if it could end… what would be left? His bones? Not even, he gave that to Jim (and to Starfleet, to a certain extent, he snorted) and willingly this time (as much as a drunk guy could, for the latter). A heap of misery, then. Yeah, nothing to hold the mess he was upright. It’s not that Nyota, Spock (not that he would ever admit that to the guy… Vulcan… whatever), Scotty, Hikaru, Pavel… really, all of them were close now, friends... would he dare say, family? Yes, and then Jim would tell him he knew all along he was a big softie under all that grumpiness and… no, he wouldn’t. couldn’t. can’t. He’s dead. That’s the thing. It’s Jim. No one can patch nor fill that hole completely. It is Jim, goddammit. Was. Shit.

The kid is like a goddamn tribble. He would hate the comparison, but... It just grows on you somehow and you just… get used to it. Next, it kinda became a part of your life, it’s there and you wouldn’t think about if it’s gonna leave you, just that it’s here and it’s good (well for the tribbles, now that they’re sterile because he never heard of a specie that reproduced themselves that fast and efficiently, that rate was scary and sure would be a damn mess on a spaceship if these reports about what happened on certain planets were to believe). Ok, maybe Jim didn’t make these little cooing sounds when people touched him, like the ones he was hearing right now, but he could also make cute noises and… wait, cooing sounds?

Leonard’s head jerked upright, his eyes on the cooing mass of fur. The damn thing was freaking moving and he was damn sure it wasn’t a hallucination because if he could hear and see it, there were also the vitals that were back to normal, back to ‘alive’ and what the fuck?

“Get me a cryotube… NOW!”

~

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Jim had stopped being a goddamn popsicle. His condition hadn’t been excellent, but he had been recovering, not exactly quickly but it was technically a goddamn miracle that he could recover at all so, as people say, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Waiting was never pleasant, but it was always better when your patient was more alive then dead and you were waiting for him to awake alert instead of simply alive. He only roused from ‘sleep’ six times (two times more than the times his heart had stopped, and Leonard’s too) and that he wasn’t really there with them when he did, he got visits every single day, which the doctor suspected wasn’t only for the captain since... perhaps... he hadn’t been in a much better state himself. He knew he wasn’t in his best because he caught himself thinking about the bourbon and other liquors he knew were waiting for him on the Enterprise in one of his drawers more often than not. Not that he would indulge himself some, not when he needed to take care of Jim, but it was still tempting, and he knew he was really low when he could feel the call of one of his demons he sure didn’t want back in his life. The fact he hadn’t any close at hand helped a bit, and he sure wouldn’t ask anyone to get him some. All in all, maybe he hadn’t been dying, but he looked like a ghost himself nonetheless… or so had they told him. Not directly, but it was pretty damn clear if their faces and looks when they looked at him were any indications. 

McCoy had rarely left Jim’s room, in those rare cases being either in his office or ‘taking care of his needs’ (“Taking a sonic shower here and there, running on protein bars and coffee and taking 2-3 hours naps each day can barely count as that, Leonard,” Uhura, always the voice of reason, had told him), and he hadn’t left the hospital at all. Perhaps since they couldn’t actually do anything for the captain’s recovery (or just because that’s what friends do, his mind reminded him) they had decided collectively to take care of him, if the food (real food, not protein bars) they bring him almost every day was a clue. 

Sometimes, he would wake up with a blanket when he knew he hadn’t meant to fall asleep in his office or a visitor chair in Jim’s room. They all tried to get him to get some sleep, and yes the staff here was competent and would alert him if there was anything unusual, but it was Jim and… dammit, he just couldn’t leave the kid’s side. They probably saw they couldn’t beat his stubbornness (few people could, and in some situations, it was simply impossible to, not even Jim’s or Jo’s puppy eyes (that bastard had taught her himself how to make them even more effective) could work in those) and gave up getting him in a real bed for at least an eight-hour sleep... until Jim wakes up for real, probably. Darn, he wouldn’t have any more excuses when it would happen, or at least none they would accept.

Jim wasn’t awake right now though, and even if the screen with his vitals wasn’t, well, it wasn’t an art piece but it wasn’t something worth calling ugly either… whatever, he had clearly been staring at it for he didn’t know how long and had clearly got all the information he needed so there was no point staring at it anymore.

“C’mon McCoy, those reports won’t write themselves,” he told himself out loud, it wasn’t like there was anybody to hear him talk to himself here anyway.

The door opened in front of him, but he stopped. A little groan confirmed what he knew was a slight change in the machines’ beepings, that he, after all, knew damn well what it meant. The doctor turned around at the same time as a soft “ ‘ones?” left Jim’s lips, and the next second, Leonard was at his side.

Obviously, whatever state Jim was in, he always tried to do reckless things and, as his best friend (and doctor), Bones helped him sit in a position where he wouldn’t be uncomfortable but would also be the best for his state before he could have any stupid ideas like trying to get out of bed or... anything Jim-like, really. He didn’t only do it.

“Hey, there we go. Now, I’ll warn you in advance, if you try to get one toe out of this damn bed-”

“Bones.” Jim’s voice was a bit hoarse, his throat was probably drier than a popcorn fart since he was being fed and hydrated by IV, but there was amusement in it.

Leonard went to get some water, then helped Jim drink it. When his friend had enough, he went back to the screen showing his vitals. He wasn’t sure he could deal with a conscious Kirk right now. He was damn happy, yes, happier than an old Blue laying on the porch chewing on a big old catfish head, but damn… just hearing the kid use that stupid nickname again, because he’s still alive? He sure hoped Jim hadn’t had the time to see his watery eyes before he could turn around.

“Bones… thanks.” Jim paused, and Leonard knew it wasn’t only about the water, then added, “I’m sorry, you know.”

He decided to keep himself busy because he knew that if he looked at him, he wouldn’t be able to control himself properly… Jim just woke up, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet, and Bones still needed to do his job, dammit (and if he could only fake it, well…)

“I knew… I knew you couldn’t have taken it.”

Leonard stopped everything he was (faking) doing. Heck, he was barely breathing, like any sounds would drown Jim’s voice and he wouldn’t hear his next words. Maybe if he could get his body to turn around… it wasn’t really listening to him right now, though.

“Don’t… Don’t take it wrong, Bones. I know it must have been hard… heck, you weren’t even dead and I could barely breathe, when, y’know, the torpedo activated itself… or… or Pike.” He took a quick pause before continuing, ”The thing is, I know… I mean, I saw you mourn patients. The ones who would arrive already dead… those were hard on you, yes. But those who arrived near death, yet still alive? The ones the only thing you could do was easing their pain? Those, Bones, those… I know each of them took a small part of you and never gave it back. Because you’re like that. You give and you give. I know, I took a lot. I try to give back as much, but it seems you just can’t stop giving, can you? So… yeah, it was a hard blow, but one you could get over and… don’t give me that look, I know you would have, because you’re stronger than you think, Leonard Horatio McCoy.”

He didn’t know what he could answer to that, but it didn’t really matter since this little speech seemed to have taken all the energy his poor captain had, which wasn’t much to begin with, and send him back to sleep. Yeah, he really had been tired, to open up like that. Not that he never did before, a years-long friendship does that, mind you, but still. It was a lot and Leonard didn’t think he could have taken more without ended up ugly crying, but that was probably only because he was so damn tired too. A nap didn’t sound so bad, though he didn’t want to leave Jim’s side yet. He gave himself the excuse that even though it was the first time his friend woke up both alert and coherent, it didn’t mean everything was fine yet, particularly not with what actually happened and the most unusual cure they used to undo the damages. A part of him knew it was more than a doctor attending his patient, perhaps even more than a best friend’s care, but he told that voice to shut up, thank you very much.

He wrote a couple of things on a padd, sit on the chair he had moved the first day to be as close as Jim as possible, and fell deep asleep like he hadn’t been for a while, tucked in that blanket no one seemed to want to claim back as theirs. 

Starfleet could wait a couple of hours more before getting those reports, anyway.

~

The next time Jim woke up, Spock was there. The doctor didn’t exactly feel like having another emotionally loaded discussion and the hobgoblin was standing a bit aside, so he decided to break the ice the way he usually would when the idiot ended up in that position.

“Oh, don't be so melodramatic, you were barely dead.”


End file.
